


A Terror I Can't Shake

by blackreaperrr



Series: Reaperrr's 2020 Whumptober Collection [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Forever Evil (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Hurt Dick Grayson, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jason todd is the MVP, M/M, Whump, Whumptober 2020, but jason saves the day don't worry, dick is not in a good place ya'll, i know my timeline is fucked just ignore that, its for the WHUMP, prompt: nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26841976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackreaperrr/pseuds/blackreaperrr
Summary: Whumptober 2020 alternate prompt: NightmaresCatalina’s fingers ghost over his skin the second he closes his eyes, her touch leaving shivers in its wake. The beeping of the Murder Machine rings in his ears whenever sleep comes knocking, and that is all it takes to have him shooting up in his bed, eyes wide and chest heaving, before giving up and going to work on his cases from work- both his nightlife and his daytime job.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Series: Reaperrr's 2020 Whumptober Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957993
Comments: 4
Kudos: 180
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	A Terror I Can't Shake

**Author's Note:**

> welp.... here we go i suppose X) I told myself I would maybe write something for whumptober, and then cranked out this baby in a couple of hours. Enjoy!

He can’t sleep.

It’s been a long day, preceded by a long week, preceded by a long year, and his body wants nothing more than to crawl in to bed and sleep but he can’t.

Catalina’s fingers ghost over his skin the second he closes his eyes, her touch leaving shivers in its wake. The beeping of the Murder Machine rings in his ears whenever sleep comes knocking, and that is all it takes to have him shooting up in his bed, eyes wide and chest heaving, before giving up and going to work on his cases from work- both his nightlife and his daytime job.

It happened a week ago, with a testimony from a sexual assault victim that triggered the nightmares. His relationship with sleep had already been tenuous, a sort of agreement between the two of them occurring two months back that let him sleep a few hours every night. Having Jason in his bed helped, definitely, but he wasn’t there every night, couldn’t always hold him tight until he fell asleep.

It began as it always did, with the first whispers of Catalina in his ears saying _quiet,mi amor. Callado._ It will only escalate from there, he knows. Catalina is the herald for his memory dredging up his worst memories as some sick replay every night.

Next will be the insincere words of Lex Luthor, his whispered _I’m sorry, Mr. Grayson_ echoing in his ears and the phantom feeling of a pill on his tongue, his heart slowing and lungs restricting as his life bleeds away. If he’s lucky, this is when he wakes up.

If he’s not, often the next memory on replay is usually the heat, searing his skin and the smell of burning flesh as animals shriek within their cages. Sometimes, he can smell and taste the smoke still when he wakes up.

Jason tells him he sobs in his sleep when he is graced with the memory of the apartment blowing up, the weight of those deaths on his shoulders, instead of the memory of the circus burning. He’s not sure why this is the memory that makes him cry out, when all the others are just as bad, but the brain works in strange ways sometimes.

_____________________________

It starts like this:

Jason is gone, on some mission with the outlaws Dick doesn’t remember the details of. He’s not there when he comes home the day of the sexual assault testimony, when Dick crumples on the couch and sobs, the memories too vivid to even _breathe_ properly.

He’s not there when Dick wakes up the second he feels the soft brush of Catalina’s hair on his face.

He’s not there to witness Dick make himself a cup of coffee with shaking hands at three in the morning, too shaken to even think about returning to sleep.

Dick knows it’s selfish, to rely on Jason this much. To resent him when he leaves him alone for a mission. _God,_ he _knows._ But that doesn’t stop him from thinking it.

He resents Jason. That little piece of Dick’s brain, that only ever turns on when he’s alone and the memories threaten to drown him. He resents him he resents him heresentshimheresent-

**_Stop_ ** _._

It’s only the third day of being alone, he’s not allowed to slip like this. Realistically, he knows there are other people he could call. Wally would be here in an instant if he so much as said the word. Bruce and Tim are in the same city even. But things haven’t been the same since Spyral, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to trust Bruce again. Tim- Tim’s still mad at him, he knows. Mad at him for leaving, being dead, even though it wasn’t his _choice._ It’s _never_ his choice.

Jason is the only one who _knows._ Knows that Dick cries himself to sleep more often than not, that he’s been treading water for too damn long and his head’s beginning to dip under the waves.

He takes a deep breath, and carries on.

Someone at the precinct comments on his dead-eyed stare, and he laughs it off. _Just a few too many cases right now,_ he says. It’s a lie. He’s worked himself harder as a twelve-year-old. At twenty-seven, he’s too broken to even sleep more than an hour a night. _He needs Jason._

He doesn’t sleep.

Day six, there’s another sexual assault in the precinct. A man, this time. It seems as if fate’s cruel hand is constantly meddling, and he’s assigned the case. It’s nearly too much, to see someone who reminds him so much of himself sitting in the foldout chair next to his desk describing the woman who did it. Dark hair, tan skin, brown eyes. Orange bodycon dress. The details nearly make him vomit.

The man is clearly unsure, says to him, _I should have been more careful,_ and _No-one outside the precinct will know, right?_

It nearly mirrors the doubts he had about himself in the following weeks after Catalina-

He has to take a steadying breath before telling the man that if he wants to press charges, there will likely be people in his immediate circle who will find out.

The man is distraught, and it takes several minutes to calm him down before they continue with the testimony. 

That night, Dick cries himself to sleep.

He cries for hours, replaying all his mistakes, all the things he could have done differently, before his body gives up and he falls into a restless sleep.

Catalina’s touches are stronger than ever that night, he can feel her inside him, her hair brushing his face as she pulls away from the sloppy kiss. He can feel her hands on his bare chest as he stares up at the sky, distant from the world around him even as rain falls in his eyes.

Catalina’s murmurs are replaced with the ticking of the bomb, and he startles, looking up in confusion only to be met with the impassive face of Lex Luthor as his hand closes over his mouth and nose. He can’t breathe, hecantbreathe-

There’s smoke in his lungs, the memory smoothly transferring to the night his childhood home burned in front of his eyes, the flames are licking at his back, and he whirls around, only to be met with not a memory, but a premonition.

Jason, lying on the ground, helmet in shattered remains like a blood red halo, eyes unseeing and face a bloody mess.

He’s distantly aware of stumbling to the body, falling to his knees, mumbling his lover’s, brother’s, _soulmate’s_ name over and over again.

_Jason. Jason. Jason. Not him, anyone but him._

He’s pulling Jason into his lap, pointedly ignoring the deathly chill of his body.

_No. No no no no, not him, please not him, Jason, Jason-_

“JASON!”

He rockets up in bed, tears streaking down his face, and it takes him a second to place himself.

He’s in his apartment, in his bed, blankets twisted around his body and- he’s _there._ Solid, present. Jason is _here._ Holding him in a tight embrace, murmuring in his ear, smelling of cigarettes and leather and gunpowder, and he’s _here._ He’ll always be here.

“Shhhh, Dickie, it’s alright, I’m here, you’re ok, no one will hurt you now,” he’s saying, and Dick feels his love overwhelm him.

“Jason,” he croaks out, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds.

Jason pulls away, looking at him with a soft smile he can barely see in the dark of the apartment.

“Sorry I took so long, Dickiebird,” he says, wiping a stray tear from Dick’s eyes.

It’s as of the floodgates have been opened, and he collapses into Jason’s arms once again, a sob wracking his body.

“Shhhh, shhhh, it’s alright baby, I’m here now.”

The world fades away as he cries, enveloped in the strength of Jason’s arms, breathing in his comforting smell and grounding himself with the _thump thump_ of his heart.

It could have been minutes, or hours later, when he comes back to himself, Jason’s fingers brushing through his hair in steady strokes. He must make some sort of noise, because Jason pauses just slightly in combing through his hair.

“You with me?”

Dick hums in response.

“You want to talk about it?”

A shake of his head.

“Alright, why don’t we try to sleep a bit more.”

Dick nods, and pulls away reluctantly, cringing when he sees the mess he made of Jason’s shirt.

“Sorry I got snot on your shirt,” he croaks.

Jason chuckles, “Anything for you, Big Bird.”

Dick just huffs, a small smile on his face as he settles into the curve of Jason’s body and Jason pulls the covers over them.

It’s ten minutes later when he whispers, “I love you,” so softly into the night if you weren’t paying attention you would have missed it.

He thinks Jason’s asleep, so he’s surprised when Jason pulls him impossibly closer and nestles his head into the crook of Dick’s neck.

“I love you too,” he murmurs.

And for once, Dick feels as if his problems can wait until the morning, after a good sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone says anything, I know the timeline is all over the place, but I really just wanted to focus on the events I felt really shaped Dick's character, and not really worry about the correct timelines. Also!! Who would've thought, a new chapter for TIFTW AND a new work within 24 hours?? miracles DO happen
> 
> anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed this one, and don't be afraid to hmu on my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/jasontiddie) because a gal is always looking for new friends to chat with!!


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